


The Detective and the Blogger

by michiefen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Superwholock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7234759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michiefen/pseuds/michiefen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Mary never got preggers and John left Mary after he found out about the secret thing. A lil bit of references to other fandoms as well as shipping... lots of shipping....</p>
<p>Hopefully no feels, mostly just fluff~</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Detective and the Blogger

okay so this is my first fanfic and i would very much appreciate any feedback!! like seriously, please tell me if you think i've gotten anything wrong, but please try to be nice :)

here we go

have fun reading!

~~~~~

     "Ah, John don't you just love the feeling of triumph after solving a case?" Sherlock said as he strolled through the door of the flat he shared with his blogger. He heard John grunt behind him, and surprisingly enough this irritated Sherlock even though John's response was normal behavior, because oftentimes he would keep John awake for days on end if he couldn't figure out a clue.

     Once the door was closed, John headed for the shower, "Hey uh Sherlock," he started, " I'm gonna go to sleep after I've had a shower, so please try not to make very much noise, I'm really tired."

     Sherlock nodded and sat down on the sofa and went to his mind palace as he heard the shower come on. He walked through the vast halls and stopped when he saw the corridor marked "John," _Hmm, perhaps I should do some clearing out..._ he thought as he wandered in. The first room he passed was labeled "John's helpful moments in my cases," and the one across was "John's dull moments;" he deleted the latter because he felt that they were unnecessary and he didn't want to think about his flat mate like that, John was more intelligent than that. With the room gone, Sherlock continued down the hall; he saw his favorite rooms like "Holidays with John" and "Crap telly that's actually entertaining," though he would never admit that he liked an American show, let alone one with demons and angels in it! _Oh the horror, if John knew I fancied Castiel, I would never hear the end of it._ He shuddered at the thought, and walked to the room that he'd came for at the end of the hall. Now, this particular room was bigger than all the other rooms combined, and by far the only room he didn't quite understand; this was the room labeled "Feelings towards John."

     He hesitated, he had never fully had an understanding of basic human emotions. However, with John he actually felt like he could be himself, and he let himself feel emotions around John; but lately those emotions had gotten a bit out of hand. In fact that was his reason for coming to this part of his palace, he wanted to investigate the nature of these strange feelings. But before he could dive into his investigation, he was ripped from his mind palace when he heard screams coming from John's room. Sherlock bolted upright and rushed upstairs. Without hesitation he burst in through the doorway and strode over to john to wake him up.

     "John. John! Please wake up! It's a night terror! Nothing can hurt you here!" Sherlock shouted, shaking John from his slumber. John jolted awake and pulled Sherlock into a tight hug, his body still shaking from fright.

     "Oh Sherlock, the nightmares are so terrible! They seem so real..." He sobbed with unadulterated, raw emotion. Sherlock didn't know how to respond, and his brain was working on overdrive, so he sat there with John trying to calm him down; but eventually he figured that John had fallen back asleep. He tried to put John back in the position he was originally laying in, but John regained his consciousness enough to say, "Sherlock, please stay with me."

     Sherlock was shocked, "I-uh- John I- I don't think that would be a good idea..." he trailed off, but John had already fallen asleep once more. _Well, I can't just leave him..._ Sherlock thought as he laid down beside his flat mate.

~~~~~

     The next morning John woke up to see a sleeping Sherlock beside him, and was shocked;  _What the hell happened after we got home last night?_ he thought. Then he remembered; the night terror, he'd asked Sherlock to stay with him. Sherlock stirred slightly and suddenly John was met with the bluish-brownish-green eyes that he'd only known the detective to have.

     "Good morning, John," he said, sleep still heavy in his voice. Not that he would admit it, but John found that voice incredibly sexy. _Wait what? Did I just think his voice was sexy? No, I couldn't have... I mean, I'm not gay..._  

     "Morning Sherlock. Did you sleep well?"

     "Indeed. And you? Did you have any more night terrors?"

    "Thankfully, no. Thanks for staying with me, by the way."

     Sherlock nodded and sat up, still wearing his rumpled suit from yesterday before leaving the room, undoubtedly because he wanted to give John some privacy to get dressed; but that didn't seem to be the case because John heard the shower come on. John groaned slightly as he got out of bed,  _Damn my bloody leg!_ he thought, reaching for his cane. He went downstairs to make tea and breakfast for Sherlock and himself.  _Well, if Sherlock actually slept last night, maybe he'll eat too. Oh sod it, who am I kidding? He would probably rather go to the market before actually eating anything._ John chuckled at that thought, and set to making the tea.

     A few minutes after the tea was made, Sherlock came out with just a towel on and when he saw the tea, he graciously accepted, "Thank you, John."

     John nodded and the two sat in silence, both only sipping their tea while contemplating each others secret feelings towards the other. Then, Sherlock's phone rang. 

     Sherlock answered it and listened for a few minutes before turning to John and smiling, "We've got another case!"

     "Ugh, we've got a case already?! It hasn't even been a day! Can't Lestrade give me a break?" John complained as the duo hailed a cab.

     "Oh don't be such a baby! Besides, he said this one would only take an hour at most. So it's probably just a kidnapping. But at least it's something to do in this boring place, no offense," Sherlock said, looking at John apologetically. John grunted and Sherlock continued, "Well then, the taxi's here. You coming?"

     "You know what? No, I'm not coming. I am going to go back to the flat and go to sleep in my bed, to have my dreams, in peace. Have fun solving your case, you won't even notice that I'm not there."

     "Oh. OK then. I'll be back later."

     Sherlock DID notice the absence of his blogger, and it wasn't very helpful. Sherlock kept making his deductions out loud, but there was nobody there to marvel at them, so he didn't quite feel the same sense of satisfaction as he easily solved the case. A young girl had been kidnapped by her father who had recently divorced the mother in an attempt to flee to America, it was rather dull, and took the detective less than an hour to solve. He was disappointed, he'd hoped for something more  _intriguing,_ something worthy of his exemplary detective skills, but alas it wasn't even a one-patch problem.

      _Oh bollocks, why did John have to stay at the flat? It's so boring here without him! I just hope he hasn't had another nightmare... wait what? Why should I be worried about his problems? Stupid sentiments, I'll have to delete those later._ He thought during the cab ride back to he flat. 

     Sherlock arrived back at Baker Street a few minutes later to find John sleeping peacefully on the sofa, the telly still on and the clicker in hand. Sherlock sighed, and gently tried to wake him, "John, John wake up. You've fallen asleep in front of the telly again."

     "Hmm? Oh, yes, ah, you're back early."

     "Yes, I was right about that. It was just a simple parental kidnap. Barely worth my time."

     "Ah OK, obviously."

     Sherlock smirked at John's use of his favorite phrase. They sat together and watched a bit of television together; Doctor Who? happened to be playing and it was an episode with Sherlock's favorite Doctor, the ninth one played by Christopher Eccleston. It was the episode called The Empty Child, and John couldn't help but laugh at Captain Jack's attempts at flirting with everything alive.

     Once the episode ended, Sherlock joked, "And Steven Moffat kept his promise, that was the only episode where everybody lived to see the next episode."

     John was silent for a moment but soon after burst out laughing, "Wow Sherlock, that was actually a very funny joke, good job."

     Sherlock grinned, "Thank you, John."

     "So, are you willing to eat this evening?"

     "I think I could go for some takeout from Angelo's."

     "Good. You're paying, by the way."

     "That seems agreeable. Shall I order for us then?"

     John nodded and changed the telly to some random channel that was playing reruns of an old sitcom from America. Sherlock placed the order and joined him on the sofa. They sat together for a while, then Sherlock stretched out like a cat, his legs resting on John's lap.

     "What are you doing?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.

     "I'm getting comfortable."

     "And does that have to involve you putting your legs on me?"

     "Yes, it's an experiment."

     Sighing, John threw his hands up in defeat, "Fine, whatever. Just don't do anything weird."

     They sat together and watched crap telly for a bit, and Sherlock shifted his legs "unconsciously." John blushed and tried to hide it from Sherlock, but ultimately failed; Sherlock smirked and shifted again, earning even more squirming from John.

     "Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?!"

     "Nothing. Why? Am I bothering you?"

     "Kind of! What kind of experiment are you testing?"

     "Human behavior. More specifically, love."

     "Wh-what are you implying?"

     "I'm not implying anything. Your body is proof enough; pupils dilated, elevated heart rate, John if I didn't know any better, I'd say that this," he shifted his legs once more, "turns you on."

     John looked absolutely terrified, "Uh-I ah, okay fine. I have had-erm- thoughts, about us," John gestured wildly with his hands, "being, ah to-toge-together. Romantically."

     Sherlock smirked, "About time you finally admit it."

 John looked legitimately shocked, "What? You mean to tell me that you  _knew_ about this?"

     Sherlock's smirk only grew, "Of course I knew, now shut up and come here."

     John only had time to gasp as he was pulled onto the lap of his flat mate and snogged senseless; Sherlock's hands started to roam over  John's back and shoulders until his hand reached John's  shoulder. John tensed, but slowly relaxed as Sherlock's hands began massaging his shoulders.

     "Ohh," John murmured, "And since when did you become a masseuse, hmm?"

     "About ten months ago, why? Do you like this?"

     "Oh God yes, please don't stop," John pleaded.

     "Well, shouldn't we at least move this to a bedroom?" Only a hum came in response, "Okay, yours or mine? Mine is closer..."

     "Yours then. Now hurry up you aggravating git!"

     Sherlock smirked at the new nickname and easily hoisted John up so that his legs were wrapped around the detective's pelvis. John gasped slightly, for he didn't know that Sherlock was THAT strong. Not that John would admit it, but since coming back from the war he'd gained at least ten pounds, so he didn't expect Sherlock to be able to lift him so easily. As the duo shuffled towards Sherlock's room, Sherlock somehow managed to find the one spot on John's neck that drove him nearly mad with lust.

     "Sherlock!" John gasped as he fought the urge to rip Sherlock's clothes off and claim him for his own. "Sherlock, please, slow down!" he pleaded.

     "But Jaaawn, don't you crave this? The adrenaline pumping through your veins, the lust absolutely maddening?"

     "Well yes, god yes, but I have work in the morning and if we start this, I'm not going to stop until you faint from exhaustion..." his promise trailing off, his voice lowering substantially, causing the detective to shiver at the thought. John had a point, for it was Sherlock who thought that he would make John pass out with ecstasy, and he was quite good at it as well.

     "Fine," Sherlock sighed, "But spend the night with me at least..."

     John agreed and Sherlock set him back on his feet so that he may prepare for bed. He quickly hopped in the shower and washed. Afterwards, he dressed and strolled into Sherlock's bedroom, where he was quickly met with a very naked consulting detective. John cursed himself for forgetting that he sleeps naked.

     Sherlock noticed John's uneasiness and patted the space next to him, smirking.

     "Oh don't worry, I won't bite... Yet," he said with a wink. John groaned and crawled into the spot next to Sherlock, before he was quickly pulled in to a cuddle position. John sighed in resignation, and quickly fell asleep.

   The next morning, John woke with a start. _This isn't my bed... And who's got their arm tossed over my- OH._ It all came flashing back.

     That bloody bastard knew all along.

     That bloody bastard stuck his tongue down John's throat.

     That brilliant bastard is currently sleeping naked right behind John.

      _Oh shit._

     John tried to move so he could get up and ready for work, but was stopped when Sherlock groaned and tightened his grip around John's torso. John thought about going back to sleep, but tensed when he remembered the fact that his flatmate was completely  _naked_. 

     Sherlock felt John tense up, and smirked, "What's the matter? You had no problem crawling into my bed last night..."

     "Sherlock..." John trailed off, sitting up and facing him, "I was so tired last night I would've crawled into bed with Mrs. Hudson!"

     "Oh really? And you would've slept peacefully through the night also, without any night terrors?" Sherlock questioned, obviously feeling victorious for keeping John from having his usual night terrors.

     John looked surprised, "What do you mean I slept through the night 'peacefully'? You know I have them at least once a night."

     "I meant what I said, John, you didn't wake up at all; not a single time. I will say, however, that I heard you mutter my name in your sleep... followed by a moan of pleasure," the detective added, smirking even more.

     John covered his face with a hand, _He's never going to let me live this down, that wanker!_ he thought.

     However, John was surprised when he felt Sherlock sit up and hug him from behind, "Not that I'm complaining; I'd love to hear you moan for me again while you're awake..." Sherlock trailed off, snaking his hands seductively around John's waist.

     "Sherlock... You know I've got work today, I need to get dressed!" he sighed, pulling Sherlock's hands off of him.

     "Oh John, I've already taken care of that. I called the clinic while you were sleeping and explained that you've been a bit...  _stressed_... lately, so I told the receptionist that you'd be spending the day in bed in order to relax yourself," Sherlock said, smiling mischievously when he said that John would be spending the day in bed. 

     John sighed and checked the clock. It was already 10:30, so he would've been late to work anyways.  _That bloody wanker let me sleep in, no wonder he was able to call! I was sound asleep... God I hate that bloke sometimes, but this isn't one of those times_ he thought.

"Alright, I suppose I can relax for ONE day. But tomorrow its right back to work, understood?"

     Sherlock grinned, knowing full-well that his blogger wouldn't be able to go back to work the next day if he had anything to say about it, or rather DO.

     "Deal," he agreed, pulling John back to bed where they proceeded to shag for the remainder of the day, being sure to try EVERY idea that either of them could possibly think of.


End file.
